#just because you're sitting right at the top doesn't mean you can rule over me alright?

[afternoonblues]

enjoying reading academic journals & books is a different kind of joy especially when it's a subject you enjoy dwelling in ya'know

[elllisaaa]

I think you'll know who's asking this🤭

But I NEED to know as a headcannon Who in seventeen is the brat or the brat tamer?? Like it's a genuine thought (And a BIG brainrot)

you're so bad for making me think about this honsetly, but let's go

WHO IN SVT IS A BRAT OR A BRAT TAMER :

SEUNGCHEOL is a brat tamer, he already has a stressful enough life, so he won't tolerate his princess taunting him. yes, he can and will spoil you, but be a brat and he won't be tender at all. he's going all in with the punishments - bending you over his lap to spank you and making you count, tying you up and edging you, calling you names when he knows you're only craving for his approval. he does everything to remind you that he's the one in control.

JEONGHAN is both the brat and the brat tamer. this little shit knows how to rile you up and leave you on the edge, but the difference is that he will not let you act on that. on the contrary, when you're being all needy because he has teased you all day, he will shame you and degrade you for it. punishes you by not letting you cum for literal days because he's mean like that.

JOSHUA is a brat tamer. he's usually a sweet and careful lover, but when you're pushing his buttons, he doesn't let it slide. because he's treating you like a queen and he's not having the way you're disrespecting him. once he gets you pinned underneath him, his fingers deep in your soaked heat and giving you your ninth orgasm of the night, you understand that you made a grave mistake and he's here to remind you of that everytime.

JUN is a brat, but it's unintentional. he never wants to get on your nerves, but sometimes he just needs you when it's not the right time and he can't let it go. it's not that he wants to annoy you, but he's just so horny right now. he takes the punishment so well though, begging prettily and perfectly listening to every one of your orders, apologies falling past his lips when you tear away his orgasm from him again.

HOSHI is a brat, and it's very, very intentional. he loves it when you're in control, loves it when you're mad at him and punishes him. so he purposely gets on your nerves to get you to ruin him. even when you're spitting in his mouth and riding him until he cannot talk anymore, he's still disobeying and touching you when you ask him not to. he never stops.

WONWOO is a brat tamer. he loves to please you, but when you're interrupting him every two seconds when he told you he was in the middle of a game, there is no fucking space for being loving anymore. he forces you to sit on his cock and stay still until you're crying from desperation, and don't you dare cum because he will be even meaner if you do without his permission.

JIHOON is a brat tamer. he already loves to hear you beg and to be a little rough. so when you're being a little tease and he's not in the mood for that, he's quick to get you face down ass up, a death grip on your hips that renders you unable to move. he's fucking you until you're pleading for him to stop and crying into his pillow from how frustrated you are because he doesn't let you cum.

SEOKMIN physically cannot be either. even when he's on top, he's too soft to tame you, and he's not strong enough to be a brat. as soon as you scold him and call him bad, he's on his knees, ready to ask for your forgiveness and to be your good boy again. he cannot bear any punishment and he will cry for real if you don't let him touch you anymore.

MINGYU is both the brat and the brat tamer. there are times where he just wants you to get mad at him and ride him into oblivion, until he cannot think straight anymore. and there are other times where he feels the need to put you back to your place - on your knees, with his cock in your throat and him facefucking you.

MINGHAO is a brat tamer. he's strict about the rules, so cross them and you're in for a punishment. he will adapt it to the degree you've messed up. most of the times, he's tying you up prettily and forcing you to watch him jerk off in front of you while you cannot even get any friction, not touching you before you've begged enough to his liking

SEUNGKWAN is a brat. getting on your nerves seems to be his life mission sometimes, he thinks it's fun how easy it is to rile you up. however, he quickly regrets it once you're riding his face until you're satisfied, while he's painfully hard, unable to cum because of the cockring you put on him.

VERNON is a brat tamer. he's pretty chill when it comes to sex, but there's just something about the way you become putty in his hands when he pulls on your hair and how you lose your words when he's thrusting deep inside of you. he smirks as your eyes roll back and you're moaning "sorry" everytime he calls you a slut for annoying him while he was doing something important.

CHAN is a brat. it's actually infuriating how he can be so annoying and not lose his smirk as you're getting more and more mad. however he's quick to shut his mouth when you're pressing a vibrator against his cock and sucking hickeys on his neck but not letting him cum at all. once he's crying because it's too much, you're satisfied with the way you broke him and he's ready to do it all over again.

[rottenaero]

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 3 of the roommate idea

Steve declines the hellfire invitation from Dustin, making up a pretend date, because otherwise he was not getting out of that one. He checked the time on the wall.

2:27

Yeah, alright.

He waited a few hours before getting ready and heading to the school.

The game starts in thirty minutes so they should be-

Steve grinned as he watched the back of Dustin move into the drama room.

Perfect.

He waited a minute, listening into their conversation before deciding that he didn't need to wait for them to stop because if they stopped that meant they were starting.

He slammed open the clubs door, making a couple people in the room jump.

“Steve! What are you doing here?" Eddie asked from his place on the throne. "DnDs over, pack up your shit.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

Well, apparently a little room.

“What!! Why?! Last campaign of the semester, Mike leaves for Cali tomorrow!"

Steve furrowed his brows, and put his hands on his hips, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff weren't arguing, they knew he was serious, good.

“It can wait till he gets back, why would you even plan this a day before he leaves?”

“Why do we need to pack our shit?!”

Steve pinched his nose, "We're going to Luca’s basketball game.”

“What?!?”

“That traitor-"

“Stevie, darling, you can't be-”

“Why?!”

“You two know each other-”

Steve grimaced, a migraine starting at the fore-front of his mind.

“Please shut up, Christ.”

Eddie winced and immediately shushed everyone.

“We're going to this game, because even if Lucas doesn't get to play, we still gotta support him. Dustin, Mike, you guys have only gone to one of his games, his first one.”

He turned the other group, "Grant, Gareth, Jeff, fuck Eddie. None of you have gone to a game, I know it's not your usual shit but you gotta come. Hell, Erica, you're his sister, I mean, you’ve done an amazing job at showing up at the rest, so I can’t really complain about you.”

Dustin winced, “ Sorry Steve, but why does this matter so much to you? It's not the end of the world.”

Steve rubbed his arm, “ He needs someone to be there for him, even if he doesn't win. You can just do the damn campaign at Eddie's when Mike comes back.”

Mike, in question, scoffs, “And since when do you make the rules.”

Steve ignores him, reaching forward and grabbing Eddie's arm, and Erica’s shoulder. "Suit yourselves, but kinda hard to play DnD without the Dungeon Master, and Eddie and Erica don't have a choice.”

They make their way to the gym, a reluctant group of Hellfire in tow, and sit across the top of the bleachers. Steve waves at Robin from where he sits and then turns to Hellfire. “ Thank you guys for being reasonable."

Gareth scrunches his nose, “You cannot just keep stealing Eddie randomly.” Steve purses his lips, and leans into the man in question.

"Not stealing if he's okay with it, right Eds?” Eddie looked between the two, “ I'm sensing I should say yes?"

Steve grinned and patted his cheek. “Good boy."

Dustin turned to them, "Was Eddie the date you were talking about earlier? You tell seem awfully friendly."

Eddie flushed, and let's out an awkward laugh. " Steve wishes he could date me."

[another-lost-mc]

@onyourowndaisymae asked:

ignore me crawling into your ask box like i haven't been bombarding your feed with old man thirst already

anyways i'm imagining a pact mark tour with solomon where he slowly strips for you and takes his time explaining the origin of his pact marks in all the detail he can remember. rolling his sleeves up and showing off his toned forearms and explaining who's pact mark is where, then taking off his shirt, then unbuckling his pants to let them sit lower on his hips to he can show off the ones that trail onto his v-line, savoring the way you stare shamelessly and justify it by claiming you're "paying attention" when you both know you're not--

teehee.

➤ thinking about: beating that old man at his own game

solomon x gn!reader | nsfw | suggestive

Solomon can barely contain his smirk because he sees that you're trying to be his darling apprentice and pay attention to something that's supposed to be educational. sure, he could have just shown you these marks in some of his old books instead, but then he wouldn't have the glee of watching your eyes widen as they roam across his pale skin adorned with crisp black lines of sigils and runes. your eyes linger on his tummy and the waistband of his underwear, a teasing glimpse of black silk. he clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his face guiltily—he's caught you and you both know it.

what he doesn't expect is for you to stand up suddenly and start unbuttoning your own shirt. his hands fall limply at his side and he tilts his head in confusion. the question he's about to ask dies in his throat when the first pact mark peeks out behind the thin cotton material. it swirls delicately across your collarbone over your right shoulder. the unbuttoned shirt falls to your feet and now Solomon can't help but stare at the smooth expanse of so much skin he's only dreamt of being able to see and touch. he counts two more pact marks as his eyes focus on the elaborate markings that stain your skin: there's one on your left shoulder and one on your chest, right over your heart.

his fingers instinctively reach out to trace the unfamiliar shape, but he pulls his hand back again. he can look but not touch—the rules to his own little game feel so suffocating all of a sudden. he can't help but wonder who's mark would dare claim your body—your heart— so blatantly? he doesn't even mean to ask the question out loud, and he doesn't expect you to answer him, either.

Lucifer. he should've known.

but there are still four more marks he's yet to discover, and now you stand with your hands on your hips, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth. you know he's waiting for you to reveal the rest of your body to him so he can see for himself where the others have made their marks on you. your fingers drum idly against the side of your left leg, near the top of your thigh where Levi's mark hides beneath your denim jeans.

Solomon's eyes focus on your hand because he knows there must be a mark there. sometimes he unconsciously traces the ones on his skin too. he'd love to see the mark for himself, and he licks his lips and thinks that if he asks nicely (or begs, if he must) then maybe you'd let him trace it with his fingers, or with his tongue—

the trance is broken when you pick up your shirt and spin on your heel, reminding him about the meeting at the sorcerer's society you're both going to be late for. you shrug your shirt onto your shoulders and button it up as you walk away, leaving him alone in his library with a dry mouth, an erratic heartbeat and a throbbing erection.

[kiyomitakada]

"This isn't what I meant by 'bonding activities,'" Misa says.

L has his entire arm, up to the elbow, stuffed into the Jenga tower box. Light silently prays for his hand to get stuck. "Did you not say you wanted company, Amane-san?"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean with you," Misa retorts. "I said I was lonely without Light around!"

"Yes, and Light-kun is attached to me," L explains patiently. He successfully withdraws from the box; the missing Jenga piece dangles between his thumb and index finger. Damn it. "Many couples play tabletop games together."

"I don't want to be in a couple with this creep," Misa says. "You don't either, right, Light?"

Light sighs. "Misa, you're a suspect in a murder investigation. It doesn't really matter if you want to or not."

"What?! What about consent?"

Since when have you cared about consent? Light does not say aloud. Instead he says, "Whatever," because he's a nice person. "Let's just get this over with."

"Beh," Misa mumbles, but she settles down on the sofa to peer at the Jenga tower pieces L has dumped onto the table. Light and L sit opposite her; L, with uncharacteristic grace, places the last wood block on top of the pile.

"You know," Light remarks, "I'm pretty sure the pieces are already arranged as a tower when you first buy them. You didn't have to scatter them all out."

"Oops," L says without a hint of remorse.

No one moves. Eventually Light, with another sigh, leans over and starts stacking the tower up himself.

-

Light has played Jenga before, obviously. With friends during recess when it was raining outside, yeah, but more often with Sayu and Mom over the holidays. Mom is brilliant at it; Sayu's alright, but takes too many risks. Light's no strategic master, but he's also never lost, as far as he can remember — he just plays it safe and goes for the loose blocks in the middle.

Suffice it to say that this round is going to kill him.

"This should not be standing," he says in a desperate plea to the rules of physics.

Misa grins. She's only been taking blocks from the left side of the tower (and putting them on the right side, to be fair, but that should not nearly be enough to balance this structure). Even one piece in the base level is gone. "But it is!"

"Ryuzaki," Light says, gesturing at their inadvertent creation of the Leaning Tower of Pisa's inferior cousin, "how is — how?"

"Amane-san is quite a good opponent," L muses, neatly dodging his question. He leans forward with a smile, pressing his thumb into his lip. "I am honored to be playing against her."

Misa brightens. "Hey, Ryuzaki, you're not so bad!"

"I'm here too," Light mutters.

"Hmm." L tilts his head, thumb digging deeper. Light watches the way the strands of his hair fall out of and into place. "Let's see…"

Five seconds pass. Then ten.

Light, all of a sudden, realizes he's been staring at the way L's hair curls just slightly when it brushes against the nape of his neck for far too long. He drops his gaze immediately; it lands on the chain between them instead.

The chain. The chain connected to L's hand. He could end this hell with just one tug —

No, too suspicious. If he cheats at Jenga, L will surely jail him (again) for mass murder.

"Can you hurry up?" Misa crosses her arms, leaning forward. "It's only supposed to take a minute, you know."

"Not all of us have your reality-manipulating powers, Amane-san," L murmurs. His thumb has not left his lip.

"Or maybe I'm just better than you."

L's gaze flickers upward. "Did you often play Jenga in the past?"

"Not really." Misa shrugs. "My friends weren't all that into it."

"Then I find that rather unlikely." L glances back down to the pieces he's considering; Light lets himself exhale.

"No, it just means I'm a natural talent!"

Instead of responding, L reaches and plucks a piece away. It happens so fast Light has no time to blink, exactly the same way L eats sweets.

The tower wobbles and —

No. Still standing.

"Jeez," Light mutters.

"Unhappy I'm winning, Light-kun?" L puts his piece down on the top level. He puts it down vertically. (He's already placed five other pieces this way, packed together in a geometry that is apparently conducive to structural support. Light wishes he could strangle him.)

"Who says you're winning?" Light and Misa say simultaneously.

They blink at each other. Then Misa beams, putting her hand up for a high-five. Light meets it hesitantly.

"I do," L says, unconcerned. He tugs the chain. "It's your turn, Light-kun."

"I know that." Light leans forward, narrowing his eyes. Despite everything, this shouldn't be difficult. All he has to do is find a loose block, and then this tortuous game will continue on as usual.

He briefly considers collapsing the tower on purpose.

No. Light Yagami does not lose. He taps at one of the pieces; nope, load-bearing. Another one. Nope. Another —

Suddenly he's falling — wind whistles in his ears — and then he hits something bony and angular with a thump.

Light stares. He'll deny this later but he stares and stares and stares, until he finally registers that he is lying in the lap of quite possibly the second worst man alive and jolts back upright, pushing him away. "What the fuck, Ryuzaki!"

L's laugh is low and slow and amused. "I only moved my hand a little," he says. "I didn't know Light-kun could tip over so easily."

"You are cheating," Light accuses. "You wanted me to lose!"

"The tower is perfectly intact," L says. "No evidence, no crime."

Light tears his glare away from L to check. Yes, the accursed tower is still standing. Damn it all.

"That's the whole problem, isn't it," L continues. "No evidence…"

Misa slams her hands down on the table, making the tower judder. Light startles; he'd almost forgotten she was there. "You locked us up for two months and didn't even have evidence?!"

"There is plenty of evidence in your case, Amane-san." L turns to look at her. The loss of his gaze feels a bit like a punch, but a mild one that Light is not affected by whatsoever. "And besides, I was referring to Jenga."

"Well, what about my boyfriend? He never—"

"Just drop it, Misa," Light says. "He's not changing his mind."

For a split second, Misa glares at him. Light almost flinches — and then it's gone again, replaced with a pout. "But he's insufferable!"

"You'll only have to suffer me until we catch Kira," L says dryly. "So I suppose we'd best do that as soon as possible."

(Aizawa, muttering from the control room: "Oh, really.")

"Yeah, well, we will," Misa says. "And I bet Light's going to beat you to it, 'cause he's so much smarter than you. Right, Light?"

"It's still my turn," Light says. "If you pull me again, I'll break your nose."

"Hmm. Ten percent."

Light steadies both feet on the ground, clenches his chained hand into a fist, and reaches for the tower again.

He taps. And keeps tapping. With growing horror, he realizes that there are no loose pieces. Every level is made of just the middle block and the right block now, and none of them are pullable. They’re just not enough on their own.

…Wait.

Light takes a long inhale and holds it, just in case a breath would disturb the structure. He squeezes his eyes shut, then open. He reaches for the level 75% of the way up.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Light uses his thumb and index finger to maneuver the middle piece into a diagonal —

There! The right piece slips out easier than butter.

Light does not indulge his first instinct, which is to yell FUCK YES!!!!!. Instead he leans back, exhales, inhales, and then puts the piece back on the top layer.

The tower does not fall.

"Your turn, Misa," Light says, attempting to school his smile from "deranged" to "enthusiastic."

Misa claps in delight. "That was amazing!"

"Interesting," L muses. "Interesting."

"What?"

"I was under the impression that moving a piece other than the one played was a rules violation," L says.

"Wh—" Light nobly does not punch him. He weighs the possibility of claiming he had never done that, but the middle block is indeed at a distinctly unnatural slant now. "That's not true. You made that up."

L leans over the side of the sofa and plucks the manual out, flipping through it carefully. "'Any blocks moved but not played should be replaced'—"

"—'unless doing so would make the tower fall,'" Light reads over his shoulder. "And it would!" The middle piece is clearly the only one holding up the entire layer. "Take that, Ryuzaki!"

L frowns. "You, Light Yagami, are a sore loser."

"I think you're the sore loser here, to be honest," Light says, faintly giddy. He could kiss someone right now.

"Your turn!" Misa says triumphantly.

They both turn to look at her. Misa has removed the other side of the base layer. The tower is now standing entirely on one block, wavering uncertainly in the faint air-con breeze.

"What the fuck," Light manages.

Misa grins. "Good luck, Ryuzaki!"

[ @deathnotetober day 21: games ]

[lizzieisright]

Brick by brick

mean dom!reader x sub!Abby 

Summary: Sometimes Abby likes to piss you off and get in trouble. 

Tags: top!reader, bottom!Abby, temperature play, tied to bed, edging, throat holding(?) oral (r!abby), fingering (r!abby), strap-on usage (r!abby), aftercare, Abby calls reader ma’am. Everything happening here is consensual and was discussed beforehand.

Wc: 5.1k

The title from Arctic Monkeys "Brick by brick" (I wanna build you up/Brick by brick/I wanna break you down/Brick by brick)

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-

Usually Abby is a good girl. She likes the praise, she likes following your orders because you take care of her and she doesn't have to think for once. And you always reward her, spoil her even, but she doesn't behave like she's spoiled. She is a good girl.

However.

Sometimes Abby is bored. Sometimes she wants to be the pain in your ass and annoy you, because it's so hard to really piss you off and she loves finding this button that makes you cruel.

There's not so many rules Abby can break though, but she finds a way.

When Abby gets in that mood you usually can tell - she is too playful than her usual self. Abby who is suddenly tugging on your hair? Pinching your side? That's the innocent start of something that will piss you off eventually and you will put her in her place. Because later on her playfulness turns into her being moody and rude and if playful Abby can get you to be playful as well, rude Abby just makes you return all her bitching back to her.

But you like the game and you know why Abby is doing it, so you play along.

Today started exactly with Abby being a little mischievous as she pretended to bite you, which she knows she isn't allowed to, because you can't have visible marks at work, then stole all your books, then you heard "you can't make me" when you told her to move because she was in your way, and now you expect the last straw to break, because Abby has been frowning and pouting for a while and not in a fun way because all her efforts were useless against you. Or so she thought.

"Hey, princess, can you bring me some water?"

Abby looks up at you from the couch where she is reading.

"No." She is dead serious and it turns your voice into steel after the whole day of her being a brat.

"Abby." You cut sternly, not leaving a room for arguments.

And it works, because Abby gets up and goes to the kitchen. When she returns you don't look at her, you are too busy.

"Thanks." And then you look. "What is this, Abby?"

This is a glass full of ice cubes.

"Wait." Abby shrugs.

The blatant disrespect makes your blood boil. Abby sits back on the couch like nothing happened and that pisses you off even more.

So you take that glass in your hand and come over to the couch, grabbing Abby by the jaw hard enough for her cheeks to squish. She is immediately relaxing into you out of habit, but her stubborn pout tells you she is going to be a problem.

"You've been acting out the whole day, princess. Wanted to piss me off? Congratulations, baby, I am pissed off. So right now you're going to take that glass to the bedroom and you're going to get the ribbon and you're going to wait for me."

Abby frowns, clearly wanting to disobey, but you're faster, grabbing her by her hair and tugging her head backwards until her throat is bare for you.

"Don't make it worse, princess. You know I will make it worse if you act out again."

Abby feels thrills going down her spine - she fucking loves when you threaten her. Sometimes, when she can get you super pissed off, you seem actually dangerous and it turns her on so much she will try to make it worse on purpose.

"What do you need to say?"

"Yes."

The sharp tug on her hair is so worth it. It's painful and you're holding her too tight, but Abby enjoys it so much.

"Try again."

"Yes, ma'am." Abby corrects herself immediately and you smirk, satisfied.

"Go."

You let Abby go and give her the glass, and while she is going through the collection of ribbons in the closet you wash your hands, get your hair out of the way and take some towels with you.

When you enter the bedroom Abby is already stripped to her panties and she is sitting on her thighs with a ribbon in her hands. Abby is so pretty, especially since her clothes don't hide her curves and muscles, the combination that drives you crazy: Abby is so strong and ripped, but her cute tits are soft and round and her hips are plushy. You watch her for a moment and she looks back at you, but  doesn't say anything - she knows she is in trouble. The glass is on the drawer.

You'd usually praise her and tell her what a good job she did, but you're silent now. Brats don't get praised until they've learned their lesson.

"Lie down, hands above your head." You give an order and look at her expectedly. Abby obeys and looks at you with big innocent eyes as if she doesn't know what she did. "You wanted to get in trouble, princess. Now you'll have to face the consequences." You put the middle of the ribbon behind the metal bar of the bed and tie its padded ends around Abby's wrists.

"I just wanted to have fun." Abby complains and you smile cruelly at her.

"You've had your fun. Now I'll have mine." You brush your fingers along Abby's neck and she tenses. "What? Already desperate?"

"No."

You frown and squeeze her throat hard: it feels dangerous, like you're actually trying to hurt her, but Abby knows from how there's pressure only on her arteries that she is safe with you. You know exactly how hard to squeeze to get that adrenaline going but not to actually scare her.

"No, ma'am." Abby corrects herself, but your hand is still on her throat.

"It's the second time, princess." You say in your cold voice, and Abby shivers: the pet name makes it sound so gentle but the intonation makes it scary.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Abby utters as she looks at you, desperate to see your satisfaction.

You let go of her throat and sit back between her legs. Abby is gorgeous, every line of her is a work of art and discipline, years of training showing in each curve. She is lethal and so fucking dangerous she could easily break every bone in your body, but instead she is helpless and weak underneath you, and it gets to your head every time.

You drag your nails on her chest just lightly and purposefully avoid her nipples, making circles over the edge of her areolas and Abby is breathing hard as she watches your hands move. She can't do anything, she can't touch you in any way and she can't get away from this. You watch Abby squirm and pant as you trace her ribs and go lower, over her navel and to her hips, appreciating how warm and soft her skin is. Abby bites her lip and expects you to touch her, but you caress her thighs, every fucking line of her muscles, and then you go up.

Abby barely holds a disappointed moan, but you look at her anyway and read her reaction. You know Abby is easy to tease, she is sensitive and responsive as fuck and she is probably getting desperate already, but you're not in the mood to take it easy on her.

Your eyes dart to the glass on the drawer and you smirk again, taking one of the ice cubes in your hand - it's already melting, slippery in your hand. Abby is watching you with wide eyes, waiting for what's next, and you smirk at her again.

"Do you think it will feel good, princess?"

"Yes, ma'am." Abby nods and waits more.

"Let's find out."

You put the ice cube on her abs first just to taste the waters, and Abby tenses and gasps. You watch her while you move the ice cube to her breastbone, just between her tits, and her breath hitches, goosebumps covering her skin from the sudden cold. You lean down and kiss her neck with an open mouth, savouring the salty taste of her.

"How does it feel?" You whisper in her ear and she shudders.

"Good, ma'am. Really good." Abby swallows, her lips dry.

"But do bad girls deserve to feel good?" You tease her. You're curious if she's already going to beg or do you need to wait more.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I'll be good." Oh, she is already begging. Cute little thing.

"It doesn't matter that you'll be good, baby. What matters is that you've been bad."

You put the ice cube on her nipple and Abby mewls and twitches, tries to get away from the cold, but you press her down. You circle her nipple with the smooth ice cube and it perks up right away. Abby whines, but it only amuses you. You feel how cold her skin gets under your fingertips and you lean down to suck on her nipple and she arches into you, the change in temperature feels too intense.

"Ma'am- ma'am-" She whispers desperately, her thighs are closing on you, but you force them apart. "Please-"

"Shsh. You wanna be good?" Abby nods. "Then be quiet."

Abby closes her mouth and you move away, tracing the ice cube to her neck, leaving a wet cold trace on her skin just to lick it right after. Abby whimpers and bucks her hips again, hoping she'd be able to hump your thigh, but you move away again and leave her no chance of relief.

"I think this one is too warm now." You take another cube and rub it against her other nipple. Abby whimpers and tries to get away, but with her hands tied she doesn't have enough room and you smile. You look down and she is so fucking wet already as if you let that cube melt in her panties. "Oh, you're enjoying it, huh?"

"I do, ma'am, it feels so good." Abby whispers frantically.

You hum and lean down to bite on her nipple, licking the cold water from her skin and Abby moans and pulls her arms, probably to touch you, but the ribbon keeps her in place. The contrast of your hot mouth on her right nipple and a cold ice cube on her left nipple makes her head spin from how good it feels and she is sure she won't last when you actually touch her.

You take the ice cube off her nipple and put it in your mouth, letting it clink on your teeth, and you pull her underwear down and throw it somewhere on the floor.

"Open your legs." You order and Abby obediently spreads her legs. "You see how good you can be? But you decided it would be fun to be bad." You say it with mock disappointment as you lie down between her legs, moving the ice cube on your tongue. Abby is wet and so fucking pretty you lose your mind every time you see her naked.

You give Abby no warning, no built up, nothing, and you press your tongue right on her clit. Abby shrieks in surprise because your tongue is cold and when you move it up and down the ice water drips on her clit and it's so fucking intense and it's a little painful, but it mixes with pleasure and Abby squirms around, her arms pull again and again because it's so much and she feels like she is close and then you push your fingers into her and you start fucking her hard and your tongue and your fingers feel so good and your tongue and the ice cube and Abby is done-

Except her orgasm doesn't come. Your mouth is not on her anymore and you pull your fingers out. You lick your lips and clean your chin with the back of your hand while Abby looks at you, upset.

"Oh, you thought I'd let you cum?" You laugh and Abby wants to cry. "Oh no, princess. You'll have to wait."

"No, ma'am, please." Abby begs and bucks her hips. "Please, I was so close."

"Poor little brat." You coo mockingly and take another ice cube: they're melting so you know you don't have long to play with Abby like this. "You told me to wait until all of them melt, right? Well, I'm going to melt them on you."

Abby whimpers and arches into you again like a cat, and you caress her stomach in appreciation.

"Pretty." You cannot not say it, even if you're supposed to be strict right now. Abby is beautiful and you can't stop telling her that.

"Thank you, ma'am."

You are surprised to hear it - usually Abby gets shy when you compliment her, but apparently she really wants to be good right now.

You put the ice cube on her knee and move it down, closer to her cunt, and you can feel how she is shaking. Abby is so wet she is dripping after almost cumming and she looks so good like this you even consider eating her out again right now, but you want her to calm down a little.

Abby is watching you with the saddest puppy eyes known to a man, but it doesn't move you. You move the ice cube closer to her pubic and put it just under her lower stomach, knowing that if you leave it there to melt all cold water will go on conjunctions of her thighs.

"What if I just leave it here to melt, hm?" You draw with a cube on her pubic and Abby twitches, bucks her hips again. "And I won't touch you until it's gone, what if I do that?"

"No, please, ma'am." Abby begs and you suck a bruise on her thigh. "I'll be good, I won't try to get in trouble, I promise!"

You laugh.

"Don't lie to me, princess." You bite down on her thigh hard enough to leave teeth marks.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, please-"

You take the ice cube inside your mouth again and while you're swirling it around, you slowly drag your fingers between her folds, circling her clit gently. She is warm and absolutely drenched and you don't want to stop touching her. Abby tenses and closes her eyes, and it makes you smile, but it's not a nice smile.

You lean down to her nipple and suck on it, but every time you swirl your tongue around her bead the ice cube touches it too and Abby squirms, whimpering. You suck her nipple inside your mouth to keep it in place and push the ice cube on top of her bead, only swirling it around until Abby's nipple feels cold and Abby is overwhelmed, lost in pleasure, because your fingers never stopped playing with her clit and your mouth feels amazing.

"Ma'am can I cum? Please let me cum you make me feel so good, please." Abby is babbling and your fingers get faster.

Abby is so relieved you took pity on her, god, she needs to cum so bad and your fingers are so perfect she wants them in her mouth and in her cunt and everywhere she could get them-

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum, you'll make me cum, ma'am please-"

And everything is gone again. You let her nipple out of your mouth and suck on your wet fingers, relishing in Abby's taste.

Abby whines, angry and frustrated, and you laugh, amused.

"I didn't tell you you could cum, did I?" You lightly slap her pussy and she mewls. "You'll cum when all the ice in that glass turns to water."

"Ma'am, please-" Abby sobs when you force her thighs apart to look at her wet pretty cunt.

"Please what?"

"Please touch me, ma'am I need you, please-" Abby opens her thighs more and the water from the ice cube flows down.

"Good girl, begging so well, opening for me." You praise finally and Abby whimpers and pulls her arms again, her biceps and her abs flexing.

You lazily thumb her clit and she jerks away, sensitive. You know the more you edge her the less time she'll need to become desperate between each time, and you want her to cry for you, so you don't go slow on her, riling her up again. Abby is loud and she kicks her legs on the bed because it feels good and she has been close two times already, but the ice in the glass is not water yet.

So you stop again and Abby whimpers and tries to press her thighs together, but you press them to the bed and you can see how her clit throbs and her hole clenches around nothing. So you push two fingers inside and Abby sobs, because you're not being slow at all, your pace is brutal and she is on edge immediately, and you know by the feeling of her tightening on you she is getting very very close. You keep fucking her until her thighs start to shake and her moans match your speed because that's it, Abby is going to cum, and once again you pull your fingers out and keep her thighs open while she is thrashing on the bed, pulling on the ribbon so hard the metal bar creaks.

"Please ma'am, please, I wanna cum, please let me cum-"

You look at Abby closely and no, she is not crying yet, so you ignore her and lick the water that is left on her. The ice cube is nowhere to be found, but you don't care. You position yourself between Abby's thighs and push your tongue in her, nudging her clit with your nose. Abby jumps and whimpers, so overwhelmed and desperate: she is so fucking close, and your tongue feels so good in her.

"Ma'am-" Abby sobs and you lick a strip from her hole to her clit. "I'm so close, ma'am, please-"

You fucking love when Abby is begging. You slap her thigh lightly and put your mouth back on her, and finally you hear her little sniffles: she is so overwhelmed she is crying now, desperate to cum. It's intense and Abby can't think, her whole world is concentrated on your mouth and how your tongue rubs her clit just right and how close she is again. Abby's thighs are closing on your head just as her orgasm approaches and you think it's cute how easy it is to read her.

You push her thighs back and just as Abby starts to twitch like she is about to cum, you straighten up on the bed. Abby sobs and tries to close her thighs despite your grip on her, but you double down and press her back harder.

"Ma'am-" Abby sobs and her cute little sniffles soften you.

"You're doing so well, princess." You praise her and kiss her cheek, her forehead and her eyelids. "It's too much, isn't it? You wanna cum?"

Abby sniffles again and chases your mouth, so you kiss her slowly, giving her a moment to calm down.

"It hurts, ma'am." That makes you alert. You quickly look at her wrists, worried the ribbon is hurting her.

"What hurts?" You ask gently, knowing how delicate Abby is  when she is teased like this.

"It hurts because I wanna cum." She admits under her breath and you relax.

"Yeah? You think you deserve to cum now? You've been a good girl for me?"

Abby is too embarrassed to own the fact that yes, she has been good this whole time, so she doesn't say anything.

"Yeah, you've been such a good girl for me." You say, proud of her. "I'll let you cum, baby, but you need to do one thing for me, okay?"

"Thank you, ma'am." Abby sighs and you kiss you again.

"I want you to turn on your stomach and present that pretty ass for me, okay? Don't worry, I'll help you."

Abby nods and turns on her stomach without a problem, the ribbon is long and her arms are not crossed, but she can't get on her knees like that, so you help her push her thighs apart and up. Abby lies down exactly like she knows you like her: her back arched, her thighs wide apart as if she is stretching them, and her pretty, soaking pussy on display. She looks like a cat in heat and you want to ruin her.

You push your pants down and get the strap out. Abby can't see you like this and she gasps when she feels the fat head of your cock running up and down her folds, nudging her clit. Abby is so wet and you feel how puffy she is from the edging and you just can't help yourself.

You sit down on your knees and push two fingers into her, revelling in how tight and hot she is and how her thighs twitch. Abby whimpers and pushes back on your fingers and she is so fucking beautiful like this.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have such a beautiful girl.” You kiss her ass cheek and pump your fingers slowly while Abby mewls into the pillow. “Fucking look at you, so pretty and all mine.” You kiss her back until you reach her neck and you suck a bruise there, marking her as yours. “Are you mine, princess?”

“Yours, I’m yours, ma’am.” Abby whimpers and you kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, baby.” You murmur into her ear and pick up the pace, fucking Abby hard and fast until you feel her tightening on you again. Abby is clinging to her pillow like her life depends on it, moaning loudly, but once again you slow down and pull out. Abby whines, confused. “I know baby, I just wanted to feel your pussy tighten on me again. God you’re so wet, pretty girl.” You lick your fingers and grab the lube.

You spread it over your strap and steady Abby by her hips before pushing inside. Abby whines the whole time and her thighs spread wider to take you deeper, her back muscles showing as she arches into you. You bottom out and stay like this for a second, caressing Abby’s ass and hips, leaving small kisses on her spine. You watch how Abby's pussy is stretched on your strap and your hands tighten on her hips as you restrain yourself from moving yet.

“Good girl, took all of it.” You start moving slowly at first, letting Abby adjust and find a comfortable position. You watch your strap disappear in her and this is the best sight in your life, her big plump ass jiggling every time you thrust into her. “You want to go faster, princess?”

“Yes ma’am. Please make me cum.” Abby begs and pushes back and you knead her ass.

“I will, of course I will. Won’t leave my babygirl without giving her what she wants.” You grab her hips tighter and thrust into her, setting a hard pace to hit her g-spot at each thrust. “I can feel how tight you are, baby.”

“It’s so big, ma’am, fuck.” Abby sobs as you drag your cock over her walls. “It feels good, you make me feel so good, fucking hell-”

You chuckle and keep fucking her, not changing your pace: you’ve had your fun and now you want to make Abby cum, so you fully concentrate on her. Your movements are rough and hard and you push her back on you at each thrust just to hear her shriek and whimper. Abby mewls and squirms around, overwhelmed and overstimulated after being edged for so long, and she can’t think about anything except how fucking good it feels, how your fingers dig into her ass and hips, holding her like you own her, and she can’t help how loud she is, how her mewls and whines are echoing through the bedroom - it’s too much, it almost painful, and she doesn’t notice how you bend down and take what is left of the ice cubes into your mouth. You push her back on your cock and Abby shudders, her thighs are shaking now.

“Are you close, princess?” You say as the ice clinks on your teeth, your breath is hitched from fucking her.

“Yes ma’am, I’m so close, you’re gonna make me cum, please-” Abby is kneading the pillow, hiding her face in it from how overwhelming it is, trying to ground herself.

You hum and snake one of your hands over her hip to rub her clit while you lick her neck with your cold tongue, and Abby shouts and shudders so violently you barely keep her in one place. You know it's too much, she is crying again, but you keep fucking her, because you feel her getting tighter and tighter, not letting you pull out as easily as before.

"Look at the glass, princess." You growl in her ear and punctuate your words with hard thrusts. Abby is too out of it so you wrap your hand around her throat and lift her head. "Is there any ice left?"

Abby sobs, because your pace is relentless and she can't fucking understand what you're saying, but she opens her eyes and looks at the glass.

"Answer me." Another hard thrust.

"No, no ma'am." Abby whines and you feel her tears on your hand.

"Good." You let Abby fall back on her pillow and you bring your hand back to her clit and start playing with it. "Cum."

Abby shrieks and tenses and the liquid hits your hand and thighs. Fuck, Abby just squirted, and it makes your brain fuzzy and you are not stopping, fucking her through her orgasm. Abby is sobbing and pulling on the ribbon so hard you can hear the fabric tearing, she raises her ass in a clear attempt to escape you, but you press her down and bottom out, not caring if it’s too much: your cock needs to be in her to the hilt when she cums.

You don’t move and you kiss Abby’s shoulders, giving her time. She is whining weakly and presses back to you to be closer.

“Good girl.” You kiss your words into her cheek and Abby whines. "You squirted for me, baby, you did so good." You kiss her shoulder blade and Abby leans into your touch. "My pretty girl."

Abby whines and you know she is too deep right now - sometimes she gets so overwhelmed she goes fully non-verbal, especially if she cums as hard as she just did. You caress her sides, pressing your front to her back, and undo the ribbon on her wrists. You’ve never been so thankful for the padded parts you stitched to all your ribbons, because even with them Abby’s wrists are a little red. Abby is not ready to move yet, so you just continue kissing her and caressing her.

“Ma’am.” Abby calls quietly and you smile.

“Hello, princess.” You kiss her neck. “Are you ready for me to pull out?”

“Yeah.”

Very slowly you pull your thighs back and whisper little “shh, it’s alright, you’re doing so good” to Abby until your cock is fully out. Everything is wet: your pants, Abby’s thighs, the towel under her, and you just watch how her pussy glistens in the low light of your bedroom, mesmerised. Abby is fucked out, so pretty and puffy, and you lean down to taste her, you just can't help yourself.

Abby whines shortly and jerks away, but you soothe her with your hand on her hip while you slowly and gently lick her clean. She tastes better than everything in the fucking world.

Abby sighs, content, and relaxes into your mouth: you're not trying to rile her up again, you're just showing your obsession with her pussy and it makes her feel so wanted. Abby knows you're a big softie even when you're strict and she knows she has you wrapped around her finger and it makes her feel feral for you, makes her want to give everything she has to you and take everything you give her in return.

"You wanna cum again, pretty girl?" You ask when you've finished cleaning her up, but Abby is soaked again because your mouth feels good.

"I'm tired." Abby murmurs into the pillow.

"It's not a no, princess." You chuckle and kiss her thigh. “I’ll be gentle, okay?”

“Okay.”

This time you’re not fast and Abby feels her pleasure come in small soft waves as you gently rub her clit on your tongue. Abby sighs and arches her back more into you, lightly rocking her hips against your face. She feels lazy and light and her head is empty, and tongue is pressed on her clit just enough to keep her in this hazy, pleased state. You pick up your pace just a little and Abby’s orgasm starts to build up in her lower stomach so softly she is almost quiet except for her heavy breathing. It doesn’t come crushing on her, instead it feels like all her bones turn to jelly for a second and Abby shudders quietly as her slick fills your mouth. You take it all in while rubbing her thighs to soothe her.

“You did so well for me today.” You kiss her shoulder blade. “You took it so well, I’m so proud of you.” Abby hums in response and you chuckle. “Sleepy?”

Abby hums again, agreeing.

“Stay awake a little longer.”

You grab another towel and gently clean Abby up before helping her turn on her back. You’re very careful with her arms, slowly moving them and massaging them, helping Abby rotate them to ease the soreness. She groans a few times and you pay extra attention to the parts that made her uncomfortable.

“There you go, princess. I know you want to sleep, but we need to shower, and change the bed sheets.”

“Whose fault is that?” Abby murmurs and opens her eyes just to look at you. You laugh quietly and help her stand and then walk to the shower.

Abby drapes all over you as you wash her, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Does anything hurt? I was pretty rough with you.” You know Abby’s shoulders are sore for sure, and it makes you worried. You don’t want to hurt Abby under any circumstances.

“I’m sore.” She mumbles. “It was very intense.”

“Is it good or bad?”

“Good.” Abby chuckles into your neck. “I liked it. I'm glad we decided to try the ice thing.” You kiss her shoulder and hug her, pressing her closer to you.

"The ice thing." You chuckle. "Your brain is still a mush."

"Yeah." Abby sighs, content. "Maybe-"

"What is it?"

"Maybe next time you can edge me longer?"

"Yeah." You smirk. "I can."

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Lily sighed profoundly and drank her chocolate shake as if it was liquor. She was sitting by the bar inside a pub anyways. It was Hogsmeade weekend. And Lily needed something sweet.

Lily knew Madam Rosemerta sometimes did exceptions and sold beer to minors. But Lily reckoned she wouldn't have luck. She was bad at convincing people. Worse adults.

Plus, she wouldn't break the rules.

"Ye, Okay. Luv?"

Lily realized she was pouting when the bar owner imitated her gesture.

"Look at thet face!"

Lily swallowed her shake.

"Nothing Rosmie, really" Lily answered "I was just thinking"

"Aye, the many times people had told meh their problems... Yeh would believe I'm good listener"

Lily blushed. She didn't have a problem precisely. Maybe she was panicking a bit. But it was all in her mind.

"Have you ever had a weird dream?" Lily asked "It is just so weird. So weird, because you wouldn't do that thing that you were doing in that dream ever! But you were still doing it in the dream and in the dream you seem to like it. Only in the dream. Never in real life"

Rosmie seemed confused.

"Yeh mean like a nightmare?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically. That was the only way to describe it. A nightmare.

"Well, God knows I've had many weird dreams and nightmares, Is bloode normal, eh?" the woman said "Doesn't mean they're real"

"Yeah you are right" Lily said relaxing a little. It had been just a dream.

Rosmie leaned closer.

"Althoughe, dreams are a window to our subconscious" she continued "Show us our deepest fears and deepest desires, aye"

Lily's eyes widened slowly.

"I know what'm sayin' luv" Rosmie nodded "I followed a course online. It was prette good"

Lily blinked.

"What did yeh dream about?"

Lily drank more milkshake as she remembered the dream. She usually forgot about them when she woke. But this was vivid in her mind. Playing over and over again.

He was grabbing her by the waist in such a perfect manner, she had her hand on his shoulder and they waltzed and waltzed in synchrony only looking into each other's eyes.

His eyes were big and beautiful as they changed color. His eyelashes... God, so perfect. And that black hair that Lily wished she could touch. Looked like cotton on top of his head.

The song ended and it was time to reveal their faces. Lily took out her mask first.

"God, you're beautiful" said a sexy hoarse male voice. It sounded familiar somehow.

Lily smiled.

It was his turn to take the mask off. He did it so slowly that Lily was trembling in anticipation. And then a gasp when she saw his face.

"What's up, Evans?" he grinned.

"Potter??"

"Just admit that you want to kiss me so badly"

Before Lily could protest, James grabbed her waist and pulled her into a kiss. She was struggling at first but oh how much she was enjoying this, butterflies in her tummy and she felt sparks and magic around so she gave into the kiss. Opened her mouth for him. And it was perfect...

Lily gulped down her shake and ignored her brain freeze.

Rosmie was looking at her as if she was crazy.

"What if you dream about someone you really hate... Like really hate! And in the dream you are being.... Friendly..." she blushed "with him... Them... Them... We don't know the gender... I'm hypotecally speaking..."

Rosmie opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone else approaching.

"Hey, Rosmie"

Lily panicked realizing who it was. Standing right there next to her. So close...

"Hey, Evans"

Lily wished she would be swallowed by earth.

"Hey" she answered quickly and looked away.

Do not look at him. She told herself.

"Can I get a portion of chips?" James asked innocently.

Rosmie was not paying attention. She was looking between the two of them with a knowing smile.

"I understand now" she spoke to Lily, her eyes flickering at James.

Oh bollocks.

Lily shook her head discreetly.

"Yeah," James was oblivious "Chips?"

Rosmie winked at Lily then smiled at James.

"I'll tell the cook right away and I'll take yer order ter yer table, luv"

"Maybe some beers while we are at it?"

"Nice try, luv"

Rosmie walked away.

"Make it a large one" James said after her "My mates eat like pigs"

Lily was silently begging her not to leave them alone but Rosmie was already crossing the kitchen door.

There was silence after that. Lily stared at a gum stuck to the counter and only that. Although she knew Potter was running his fingers through his hair which made Lily blush more. She had done that in the dream. While she kissed him.

"Sweet tooth, eh?" Potter asked.

"Ha?" Lily jumped "What about my tooth, why are you referring to anything that has to do with my mouth?

James was amused "It's an expression. I was referring to the shake you just had" he pointed to the empty glass.

Lily felt like an idiot.

"Want another one?"

James was already getting out his wallet, so Lily stopped him.

"Don't you dare!" Lily snapped "I'm okay with one. Too much sugar for today"

James shrugged and pocketed his wallet.

"Are you alright?"

"Peachy"

James was looking at her without discretion.

"Come with me then"

"Excuse me?" Lily felt her face on fire "You think you can make me follow you somewhere so that we can be alone and you can woo me, eh Potter? Well, I'm not giving up... You might have girls with no brains drooling for you but not me. Not me" she crossed her arms at the end.

James blinked.

"I'm definitely not kissing you"

James laughed.

"Relax Evans, I only meant to come to the table with my friends" he said "I was inviting you over... What do you think I am, a perv?"

Oh God... Could Lily humiliate herself more?

"I'm with Mary and Marlene. They went to the loo and are taking ages..."

"They are out of the loo by now" James said "They are sitting with us. See?"

He pointed to a table by the window and in fact Mary and Marlene were laughing with the boys.

"Right"

"Plus, I thought that we were friends now, weren't we?" James added "Or have I done something wrong?"

It was true. They had had a couple of decent conversations with each other and Lily was seeing a different side in him. He wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t pressuring her into anything anymore. In fact the other day he had given her advice about Luke. He didn't ask her out just because. He didn't care about her like that anymore. Just the other day Lily saw him kissing Rebecca.

She had felt like an idiot because Luke had tried to kiss her and she couldn't. She ran away. But when she saw James kissing Rebecca she wanted it badly. Not to snog James, no. To snog someone like that.

Maybe that was why her brain was confused.

Lily was being silly. It had only been a dream. She had read somewhere that the brain picked parts of what you saw and lived during the day and mixed it up in a dream. Like a shake.

"Nothing" Lily said now more relaxed "You did nothing. It's just... I'm still getting used to being your friend"

James smiled at her.

"You know I tend to attack you as soon as you open your mouth" she added. "It's a habit but I promise I will change that"

James rubbed his hair once more.

"Well, I'm trying to stop the habit of being a dick" James said which made Lily laugh "Only tell me to fuck off if I am really being a dick to you. Promise me, okay?"

Lily nodded.

"Alright" James tusked "Care to follow me to the table were thy friends are waiting for you, Miss?"

Lily smiled as she grabbed her purse "That was actually better than: 'Come with me', so..."

Lily and James started walking.

"Alright madam, promise to be more formal the next time"

"Okay"

They both smiled at each other and it wasn't awkward anymore.

[lsunstreakerl]

more scrapbook paper max. be gentle with him please, he doesn't get enough hugs.

"Max. Maaaaaaax."

Someone is nudging their toe into Max's thigh.

He cracks an eye open, disoriented. There's something thudding against the warm wall behind his back, and he's sitting on cool tile. The room has a greenish hue.

"You better not be dead, I need to interview you for my assignment."

He's in the laundry room. Why is he in the laundry room?

"-We're supposed to interview an upperclassman and ask about their school life balance, and the internship work, and the battleworks stuff-"

Max is in the laundry room because his suit was stained. His suit was stained because he bled all over it. He bled all over it...?

"-So I was like, yeah, I'll just ask Max, that'll be fine. And then I spent half my morning trying to track you down, and everyone said you skipped class, which like- fair, but then you weren't upstairs in our dorm- we should really get a better lock on that door dude-"

Right. Big lizard thing. Mean big lizard thing. Casual evening assignment for him and Daniel that very rapidly turned not casual. Max is forgetting something.

"-And I have been looking everywhere. And now we're here, and I'm pretty sure you might be dead? Also I don't think your right side was purple last time I saw you. Unless it was, in which case I'm very sorry if I've offended you. But it doesn't look natural, cause like- it's just your arm and also your chest a little bit- what is your workout routine- so I'm thinking it's maybe bad."

Oh right. Poisonous big lizard thing.

Max blinks, staring up at Liam.

"Oh! You're not dead!"

Surely Max was not this stupid as a freshman.

"Obviously."

Liam looks from Max's face to his arm.

"...do you need the nurse?"

Max also looks down at his arm. It's definitely not supposed to be that color. He's not sure he could move it if he wanted to.

"Yup."

------

"Are we lost?"

Max feels his teeth grinding, squinting as he looks across the landscape in front of him. They're supposed to have a senior with them, but Kyvat had disappeared almost half an hour ago when he heard a noise- which breaks basically the first rule any of them are taught for Fog trips, to never go alone- and now Max is stuck with a freshman clinging to him.

"No."

He's lying. Sort of.

Max has made a few solo Fog trips, but that's because he's perfectly content to go apeshit and destroy everything around him to find a way out- it's how Daniel had met him the first time, before Max got enrolled.

He can't exactly do that with Bearman at his back though- the kid would die. Max can feel him stepping closer, practically pasted alongside Max's back, even though he's nearly as tall as Max is by now.

It's embarrassing, honestly. Max has two years on him- the least Bearman can do is let Max catch up to Daniel before he outgrows them both.

He might be able to try-

"Ollie."

The kid perks up behind him.

"Yeah?"

Max chews at his bottom lip for a moment. He's never tried this before- a tuned down version of what he's done in the past. He's not sure if it might still hurt Bearman, depending on how long they do it. He's not sure if they're going to get Kyvat back.

But they don't all need to die out here.

"Keep holding onto me. I'm going to try and feel a way out- I need you to tell me if you think there's a threat."

"Okay."

Credit where it's due, Ollie is brave. They weren't even supposed to go into the Fog today, not with a freshman- but things had gotten messy up top, and it had been safer to drop into the complete unknown without supplies rather than stay.

Which kind of sums up the year Max has been having.

That it's only January is irrelevant.

He closes his eyes, tries to carefully build up the charge in the area around him, feeling out for where it stops.

It's much easier to just have a full spark and follow that path, but again- tiny freshman. Max does not want to have to explain to the board why he's brought back a barbecued Bearman.

And Ollie's dorm mates would be sad.

Also, begrudgingly, Max kind of likes Bearman.

He sets off tiny little sparks, soft snaps of electricity, and then he's walking.

The Fog is difficult because it's not real. It causes hallucinations, makes you question what you see, what you hear. It obscures your sight, leads you wandering in circles until you die. Or until one of its natural predators comes to eat you.

Max is not interested in either of those things happening today, so he keeps walking, pulling Bearman behind him as he keeps setting off small snaps, carving out his own path.

He's not trying to get to a specific outlet- there's no way, not with the tiny amount of charge he's generating- just needs to get to one.

"Max-"

Oliver sounds nervous, and Max opens his eyes. There's nothing around them.

"You're hallucinating."

"Okay."

The benefit to traveling in groups through Fog is that it can't show the same thing to two people at once- which is why traveling alone is borderline suicide.

Max isn't going to feel bad for Kyvat- it's his own fault.

He closes his eyes again, feels Bearman jolt softly next to him when he accidentally sets a charge too hard, shocking him.

He's not going to feel bad about that either- he's got empathy in limited amounts.

Otherwise Bearman is good about sticking close, doesn't complain about the numerous static shocks he must be experiencing.

Max can feel a headache building at the base of his skull- he's not used to using this much precision for this long. He's been working on it with Lambiase, but it's still difficult.

His fingertips have a slight tingle- they're not numb or charred the way they get when he's really pushing it, just an uncomfortable pinprick sensation.

One of his sparks flares at the edge of his senses- it's snapping in regular oxygen, not Fog.

He doesn't open his eyes, because they're not out yet, but he must be smirking, because Bearman sighs in relief.

"Please tell me you found it."

Max hums, keeps guiding them.

"Maybe."

He can feel it when they hit the cool air- Fog is dry and stale, constantly. He blinks his eyes open, and sure enough- they've just stepped out of a dilapidated doorway, into the middle of nowhere.

"How the fuck-"

Bearman is looking at him, and Max shrugs. He's not going to explain it- he'll sound like a maniac anyways, and he has enough of a reputation as is.

He leans forward and hits the emergency button on Bearman's suit, sending off signals back to the academy and their supervisors.

"Stay here."

Oliver's eyes widen, darting between Max and the doorway.

"You're not actually going to- mate."

Max frowns at him. He's not taking judgment from a freshman- Liam is bad enough, and they have to bunk together.

"Stay. Put."

Bearman swallows and nods, and Max turns back around and steps into the Fog.

Stupid senior.

[bl33df0rm3]

Content not intended for Minors (18+)

Slight Modern!au (mentions of phones/bars)

can we take a moment to talk about men who just have absolutely no shame? whether that's; in public, in private the concept of tending to society's expectations about what's perverse and what's not doesn't even cross their mind. it's not even a passing thought, even if it's implemented into other peoples cogs but you're the only one that stirs his gears.

like how he is now, sitting at a table with his hand on your thigh, gradually trickling his fingers along the oh so soft flesh. just as his friends are chatting away, the comments he makes are bold, deliberate, and everyone notices how he's talking you up. explaining that his partner is the best in bed he's practically bragging at this point.

the man who eagerly takes you anywhere and I mean anywhere, like how he's drilling into you from behind just as your hands are gripping onto the plush couch of the lounge. the sinful noises of his hips connecting with the curve of your ass, he's not even trying to hide it at this point letting his groans waft through the room like a freshly lit candle.

pure filth escapes him even in the confindes of your bedroom, he's groaning, gasping, and even slightly whining because of how good you feel. he's describing it to you in such vivid detail as his hand are firmly pressed on either side of your head.

the way that even as you get dressed he's commenting on every piece of clothing you don. his voice is oddly calm for a man explaining to you how sexy you'd look in anything. how he'd take you up skirt, how he wants to see you on your knees with that low cut top on so he can flood your mouth and watch as you have to clean up any left overs that dribble onto you.

He's practically throbbing in his pants at his voiced thoughts.

"Archons just thinking about it, fuck...I'm hard already, you don't have to leave right now huh?"

men who miss you oh so much that they just assume you do to, so when you pick up your phone the first thing you open up to is a video of him getting off. his breathing is unsteady as he groans out your name as the strokes turning into him almost fisting his cock trying to replicate the same tightness all while he's pleading that he wants- no he needs you.

I love shameless!men

ITTO, KAEYA, Heizou,Tartaglia/Childe, Wriothesley,Kazuha(?),Cyno(?)

-‘๑’-Note; Next drabble coming soon….,If you have any characters you want me to cover in my next post(Or any request/ prompt for that matter) please lmk via question bar (Renamed Q&R), Comments or my Inbox

Request rules

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello I am a big fan of your work But I have a request (if request are even open then u can ignore it) how would the HLC characters react to MC being able to transform into a Hungarian Horntail dragon? (Btw have a great day or night and drink water please)

A/N: Blog rules and request updates are put on the pinned post at the top of the blog! If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM :3

HLC REACT TO MC TURNING INTO A HUNGARIAN HORNTAIL

MC still doesn't know the limits of ancient magic, but apparently, it includes being able to transform oneself into a powerful magical beast of their choice for a time. Today, the beast of choice was the ferocious Hungarian Horntail dragon. Admittedly, MC was just showing off.

They show their closest friends and mentor the full transformation and even a fireblast demonstration. Then they sit pretty to soak in the praise. They know they look cool.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: His jaw was already on the ground when MC transformed, but it somehow got lower when he witnessed the 40ft jet of fire rise from MC's maw. Such POWER. He wants to see MC decimate a dark wizard outpost. Set fire to EVERYTHING!

OMINIS GAUNT: He can feel the rumble of the earth beneath him with every step MC takes. The heat of the flames makes him turn away. Just the low rumble from MC's throat sends shivers down his spine. This is the closest he EVER wants to get to the real thing. Even though he knows it's MC, it's a scary experience.

ANNE SALLOW: She's more collected than her brother, but still as excited over MC's ability to burn everything in their path. Just thinking about what MC could do with a single breath makes her giddy. She's as much a firebug as Sebastian, she's just better at keeping her head.

IMELDA REYES: She is a simple woman with simple interests. See dragon, must race. Fly MC! Show her what you're really made of! Bet she could fly circles around them. Bet they can catch her? Prove it!

NATSAI ONAI: She'll beat Poppy to the punch about asking for rides. The spines make it challenging but she'll figure something out. She grabs MC by the nostrils and gets in their face. "Let me ride you! ...wait, that sounded-... You know what I mean!"

GARRETH WEASLEY: He NEEDS to hear them roar. Dragons are so strong that they don't even need to use fire. A roar from a fully grown dragon at close range can shatter eardrums. You feel the shockwave of sound go through your body. His ears ring for a bit even though he covered them.

LEANDER PREWETT: He's feeling so inadequate as a wizard. He can barely balance on a broom right and MC can transfigure themself into a mother loving DRAGON. No fair...

AMIT THAKKAR: He's dying to know how this works. This is magic that's either never been seen or never recorded, because he's never even heard of anyone capable of this without being some sort of rare animagus. MC needs to be studied, and he's the one to do it. Next to the stars themselves, MC is the universe's greatest mystery.

EVERETT CLOPTON: Dragons scare the ever living shit out of him. They're big, powerful and sometimes go after broom flyers when hungry. Hell admire MC from a distance. Like, way back behind the stoney hill, distant. Please don't come closer, he will cry.

POPPY SWEETING: She's absolutely ECSTATIC! She can examine a powerful dragon up close that isn't trying to eat her. It's a dream come true! She does circles around MC, taking in every detail. She takes out a small, leather bound book and a piece of charcoal and sketches every part MC lets her study. When MC puts their snoot right up against her, she actually squeals a little with excitement. She gets to TOUCH a live dragon. She's on cloud nine and never wants to come down.

ELEAZAR FIG: When MC tells him this is something they could do thanks to ancient magic, the only thing he can think is: "Miriam would have loved to see this." He's so proud. MC is capable of way more than he ever thought. He only hopes to live long enough to witness the rest of the wizarding world realize the same.

[mdhwrites]

New Eridu is a Fictional Playground

TL:DR: ZZZ is written like a sitcom primarily and its looseness of world building and the looseness of the world reflects this. It discards things inconvenient for the vibe and mood it's going for with something because that's what sitcoms primarily do. However, this is for better and for worse as the setting does have rules that are treated like a big deal but then also given the same respect as the majority of elements and it causes friction in the details while the whole of it works in the broad strokes.

So let's first clarify what I mean when I say ZZZ is written like a Sitcom. I don't mean this in structure. We are not just playing an interactive version of something like Seinfeld. No, it's actually more based on something I heard the South Park creators talk about and that's how the town of South Park is entirely inconsistent because things will be where they need to be in order for the episode they're doing to work. One episode might portray Chef's house as being right next to Walmart. The next one might have them on opposite sides. That doesn't matter though because the story being told is what matters, not the firmness of the world.

The ultimate version of this for me with ZZZ is the Golden Bangboo City quest, both for its strengths and weaknesses. The quest is one of my favorite in the game. Optimize how to get over 500,000 gear coins, a number that sounds patently ABSURD. All while in this compelling Hollow that has a lot of fun mechanics. If you don't think about it and go by the rules of the mission alone, it's phenomenal.

We do also all remember how the people there admit to having been trapped within the Hollow for a minimum of days, if not WEEKS, especially to accrue the debts they have? Or how about how the guy we need to get the gear coins for wants them... To pay for debts OUTSIDE of the Hollow, despite there literally being lines from characters about being sad that we can't do that and ALL impressions being that gear coins mean nothing in the wider world (even if it makes the gear coin locks confusing as hell). The latter is excusable but ether poisoning, the restrictions of Hollows, etc. like that are a BIG deal but even in main content, like with the thugs just sitting outside Red Fang safehouses, or Koleda's Agent Story where they admit to these raiders just sitting in the Hollow in a supposed 'safe' area and like... What are the rules here?

But you're not supposed to really ask. It's like how you don't question that Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother has all of his money. It's funnier not to have an explanation and for him to reveal his literal wall sized television. It's more entertaining that Homer can be this bumbling idiot at work and get into all sorts of shenanigans and never get fired for more than a week or never have to really worry about finances. On the other hand, these shows never go out of their way to try and make these principal, important parts of the show. Those stay fairly consistent and lead to some of the best moments of any of these works and that goes for ZZZ as well.

My favorite scene in the entire game so far goes to Koleda calling out the prototype's name. Is it more magic than scifi? Kind of. Is it over the top and kind of silly? Absolutely. Does it break what has come before?

...Only in that the prototype has not been corrupted by this much time spent in a Hollow, which is something I'm willing to overlook as it's questionable how much of its AI was actually online by then that could be corrupted. Otherwise? We've literally just fought three different mechs who were empowered by their emotional programming. We have seen how much these mechs mean to all of Belobog Industries and been explained Koleda's complex history with them, not helped by her sister being the one to continue championing them after her father's passing. All of these are played for laughs as much, if not more, than they are taken seriously and so Koleda embracing her heritage, figuring out the truth and believing in her father and the legacy he left behind has me tearing up to think about even now.

The best sitcoms always manage this. Where elements that used to be funny can then be shifted to hit like a punch to the gut. M.A.S.H. is the EASY one to call out for this with shit like Colonel Blake's death but I actually want to go to a different one because it's more iconic to me for how it works. See, the first time I ever heard the gag line "I'm not as think as you drunk I am," was in Scrubs. One of the doctors comes in drunk as a skunk and the others are mad at him. When put that way, it sounds silly and amusing. When you're told that it's their angry, condescending mentor figure, who is arguably the best doctor in the hospital, having breakdown because he just lost like four patients, including a cancer patient he thought he'd just saved (if I'm remembering right) from catastrophic failures outside of his control except for one mistake, one break in quarantine I believe... Suddenly, you're laughing but it also hurts to see him laid this low. The contrast makes the point hit harder than it would in a regular drama.

This is also why I think Chapter 3 of ZZZ so far is the weakest of the main chapters. It has no emotional core like Koleda or Nekomata that helps make the plot of the chapter work better and for you to ignore the breaks in logic. Instead, they go with tension... Which is also the part of the logic they break. After all, we're told that Pearlman's escape plan is going to only take like a couple of hours. However, canonically, our work with Victoria Housekeeping is over the course of multiple DAYS. At bare minimum, one night passes simply for the sake of interrogating the rebel forces that we pull out of the Ballet Twins. It is already hard to ignore this break in logic when we are mostly not interacting with the stakes, we're just enjoying the gags of Victoria Housekeeping, but it becomes even harder when you're also having to constantly think about the break in logic so as to be able to engage with the big question of the episode. I still managed to like it but it's part of why the anti-climax of Pearlman getting away was so dissatisfying for me because it didn't give a real payoff to what was already a pretty flimsy story. I would argue that for most of Big Bang Theory, the thing I think genuinely makes it not very good, this is its problem too. Even when the jokes are good and the energy is high, Victoria Housekeeping is a fun group to spend time with, you're lacking that real hook to bring it above just something to kill time with. Something to take away once the episode is over. The worst of ANYTHING that's just mid-tier, purely enjoyment based writing comes from this.

That is the for worst element of ZZZ being like a Sitcom. It is far more malleable for anyone to do as they want with than I would argue either Genshin or Star Rail because it leans into its own flexibility. However, that does mean it walks a fine line against potentially having the floor collapse out from under it because it is relying on more ephemeral things like raw charm and charisma, rather than a solid world you can invest in, for its core appeal.

For now, it's working but there's a reason a lot of Sitcoms get labeled with, "It was really good... Until Season X." And I hope Zenless can figure out how to avoid that or else it truly will fall out of its current zone and zero out. See you next tale.

======

Actually going to do a quick bit of additional notes here just because I feel like most people will see "X is like a Sitcom" and think I'm immediately being dismissive. That isn't the case. I love sitcoms. It's what I watched with my parents as a teenager and a young adult. I've seen almost the entirety of M.A.S.H TWICE with my brother (that final season deserves the reputation it has. sigh) Sitcoms are some of the most popular, beloved pieces of television ever for a reason. If you want some recs from me: Rules of Engagement genuinely has a lot to say about relationships, romantic and platonic, though with some wife guy humor from Patrick Warburton that is going to be up to your tastes. Scrubs is a classic, just stop when they try to swap the entire cast out, and while I know How I Met Your Mother gets given shit for its ending, the ride there is still good for most of the run. M.A.S.H... Just go watch M.A.S.H, PLEASE. It's old but it's not dated, nor is it offensive in really any way. Like the one person who wears drag isn't funny because he wears drag. It's because no one cares that he's wearing drag because he's only doing it to try and use prejudice to get discharged from the army and that doesn't make him special because none of them want to be there and that's about as insensitive as it gets as far as memory serves. It is one of the smartest things I have ever watched and has the weird paradox that most of the cast change outs actually IMPROVE the show for most of its running time, rather than diminish it and it starts at a pretty high bar so that's really saying something.

BUT the big thing I want to point out is that... ZZZ actually is using sitcoms for its groups. Belobog is a workplace comedy. The Cunning Hares are any of the billion broke bitch sitcoms out there. Soldier 11 is I think trying to capture some of M.A.S.H. with the absurdity of her quest but also being honest about her having done War Crimes. Even Victoria has that with, and I haven't watched any of this archtype so I might be wrong, being kind of based on shows like The Fresh Prince of Belair with Ellen being the low class person out of place amongst the group. If you're thinking that stuff like Friends or How I Met Your Mother are absent... I don't mean this in the way it's going to sound but Wise is Ross/his archtype and Belle is Rachel/her archtype. Not that they're in a relationship with each other but that they are the only nominally weird but mostly bland people in the group that grounds everyone else around them. The straight men comedically that bounce off everyone else.

And again: This is not a criticism. I could criticize how well each of these are done (Ellen suffers pretty badly from Wise being written as the milk toast guy that girls will just throw at themselves for no reason) but they are taking from good inspirations, at least in my opinion and I wanted to defend that. I feel like Sitcoms only really only ever get talked about negatively and I wanted to make it clear that that's not what I meant here and I even think it helps provide the unique vibe of ZZZ versus others around it.

======+++++======

I know some of what I listed might not be technically considered sitcoms but I would argue for any of them that they're bare minimum close enough to the formula and concepts and priorities of sitcoms to be useful references.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[unnonexistence]

Unnonexistence's Notecard Method for Learning Mathematics

Hello! This is the study method I developed after flunking out of first-year university algebra and having to retake it! It may or may not be particularly innovative and it may or may not help you, but I did (eventually) graduate with a Bachelor's degree in math despite having unmedicated ADHD, so, y'know, there's that. I owe it mostly to the notecards.

DISCLAIMER that any example cards are my actual real notes & I am not fact-checking them. They lean towards intuitive rather than strictly correct & were only ever intended to be for personal reference. I did pass these courses, and I think most of the cards are pretty good, but like... use at your own risk.

You Will Need:

A pack of index cards. I like the 3" x 5" ones that are lined on the front and blank on the back.

Some pens you like. I use fine-tip markers in about 4 colours, plus a white gel pen for fixing mistakes. Pencil can get smudgy over time, so it's not ideal.

Any course materials you have (notes, textbook, etc.)

Optionally, a nice box for your index cards. (You can also just use a rubber band or something. Whatever).

General Approach

We're making reference cards. One concept per card. You probably have an intuitive sense of how big A Concept is for you - it should be an amount of information that can comfortably fit in your brain at one time. If it doesn't fit on one or maaaybe two cards, it's probably too big.

Here's a topic I broke up into two cards - Chain Rule and Extension of Chain Rule. One IS an extension of the other, but the information is a lot easier to remember in two chunks. (3 pictures, here, because the first card is double-sided).

You are NOT trying to cram as much information as you can onto each card. You are trying to create an easy reference for yourself, which means making the cards as clear and legible as you can. When it's 5 minutes before your calculus exam and you're having a panic attack because you forgot how the chain rule works, you want to be able to flip through, find that Chain Rule card, and be able to absorb the information on there.

For math courses, A Concept is often a definition, a theorem, a formula, or a problem-solving approach. As much as possible, you want to write it down in a way that makes sense to you. Add any helpful tips or intuitive explanations or things you keep forgetting. If your cards are blank on the back, that's a great place to draw diagrams.

(On the back of this card you can see where I wrote "Rho" in pencil and never bothered to replace it with the symbol, lol. My prof had bad handwriting & I wasn't sure how it was supposed to look.)

Proofs are often too long to fit on a card, but if you have a theorem where the proof is important, it's a good idea to write out a little summary of how the proof works/how to do it.

Ideally, you do the work of Understanding The Concept when you're making the card, and then you can just refer back to it in future. I forget definitions a lot, and this saved me so much time that I would have spent reading one confusing page of the textbook over and over or trying to find stuff in my notes.

I try to keep my formatting mostly consistent. Clear title. Card numbers in the top right corner so I know if anything's missing. Definitions in black ink with important words underlined in colour. I tend to use coloured ink for things like examples and personal commentary. I also use it to create a visual distinction when I do need to cram something on there (not ideal, but sometimes necessary).

The Method

Sit down with your class notes or your textbook. Your goal is to get all the important concepts you're supposed to have learned in this course so far onto notecards. (Probably not all in one go.)

The ideal time to do this is right after each lecture (most math lectures are around 2-5 cards worth of material), but that's easier said than done. I always had a hard time keeping up & all my card decks, as a result, get spottier towards the end of the term. It's fine. Do your best.

I mostly went through the course material in order. I kept checklists of which lectures I had already made cards for, and which ones still needed doing.

If you don't really get something, but you know you need a card for it, at least put the definition down. You can make a better version or add more notes later. I sometimes make placeholder cards with just a title so I'll remember to come back to something.

If you write down a definition, and you're like "this refers to another thing, and idk what it is but it's come up a few times now," you probably need to make a notecard for that other thing.

How I Use The Cards

When you're doing assignments, it's really useful to have your stack of cards there to refer to. If something comes up that you don't remember the definition for, you can look it up. If you're doing proofs, having all the theorems from the course handy is a great way of getting ideas for where to start. If you're doing calculations, it's helpful to have the techniques you need written out step by step.

I spent a lot of my exam prep time making cards and going through the ones I'd made. It gave me a sense of what I already knew and what I needed to spend more time on. Having things broken up into small chunks also made it a lot easier for my brain to hang onto them.

After making cards like this for a few terms, I also found them really helpful for reviewing concepts from previous courses. Sometimes you just need to refresh your memory on something from the prereq so you're not totally lost. I've graduated now & I still refer back to my cards sometimes.

Conclusion

Well, that's my (somewhat rambly) explanation of my main study method! I hope it's helpful for at least a few people out there. I wish you the best of luck learning math & whatever else you might be studying. You've got this!!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Look After You | For As Long As You Need

What about a spidey fic? I love how you write those. Maybe Peter’s feeling insecure and the Avengers try to help? Idk, it doesn’t matter to me as long as it’s spidey. – anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: injury, bedrest, self-esteem issues, panic attacks

Pairings: none

Word Count: 2225

Recovery is hard.

Not just because broken ribs always suck and even his healing factor has its limits, not just because he's cooped up on bedrest when all he wants to do is crawl on the ceiling and make all of this go away, but because he's still here. In the Avengers' compound and he's not sure what the hell he's supposed to be doing.

"Resting," Yelena says helpfully when he mumbles as much, putting down her crochet project she's been fiddling with on and off for the last few weeks, "you got hurt, Baby Spider, now you get better."

"But I don't just want to lie here! I can still do things!"

"Things that don't involve you challenging Barton to another round of trick shots in the archery range?" She doesn't even look ashamed when he gawks at her. "Barton wants you to get better too, you know. That way he doesn't have to feel bad about beating you soundly."

"He wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what, beat you soundly or wouldn't feel bad about it?"

"Aunt Spider—" Peter is not whining, he is making his voice sound like this on purpose because his ribs hurt— "I don't just want to lie around in bed all day!"

"You could do your homework."

"I've already done all my homework!"

"You could catch up on studying for your tests."

"I don't need to study for those anymore, I basically have all the practice questions memorized. Besides, I'm not supposed to do that for more than four hours a day anymore."

"Oh? Why is that?" He mumbles something under his breath. "What was that?"

"…maybe I stayed up too late and passed out with all of my books."

"Is that all?"

"And spilled coffee and energy drinks everywhere."

"You really aren't helping me beat the rumors that you're my kid," Mr. Stark says, startling Peter while Yelena snickers. He comes into the room and sits on the edge of the bed, ruffling his hair with a comfortable fondness that makes Peter's chest hurt for a different reason. "And that does mean I'll sick DUM-E and U in here to make sure you stay in bed."

"But Mr. Stark—"

"Nope! No buts." He holds up a finger. "Pepper's enforced the no-work-on-bedrest rule enough times that I'm not about to help you break it."

Peter is not pouting, his bottom lip is just bigger than his top one. Exclusively right now. Right now is when that's true. Mr. Stark just sighs and ruffles his hair again.

"Cheer up, kid. We'll order your favorite junk food and binge-watch some awful action movies tonight, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Stark."

"There's my favorite young adult." He stands, wagging a finger at Yelena too. "You still good for guard duty?"

"That's what I'm here for."

It's probably a joke. It's supposed to be a joke. He's known Mr. Stark and Yelena long enough to know when they're joking. This is, in all likelihood, just a joke at his expense and they're not actually serious about guarding him like he's a prisoner or someone dangerous where they can't afford to have him escape and cause trouble.

So why does Peter feel like he's been shot and stabbed all over again?

He messed up really badly on the last mission. They said they weren't mad, but not being mad didn't mean weren't disappointed and everyone knows that's worse. Maybe that's why they're guarding him. There's been someone in his room pretty much at all hours and he knows he's being watched on the cameras too. Is he being guarded? He's definitely being guarded, and that means they still don't trust him.

Is it because he's so young? Crying all over Yelena and trying to be strong when really all he did was reveal how scared he was and how young—what sort of person couldn't deal with a rightly-earned scolding? Is he really so immature that he can't take something so simple as being told he'd messed up when he knew he did? That probably has something to do with it; they'd seen how truly childish he was when he tried to 'bravely' insist that he's ready to be yelled at—why had he jumped right to the conclusion that he was going to be yelled at? Did he think they were so bad that they'd just go straight to yelling? No questions for his perspective? No consideration for his side of the story? No, he'd just assumed they'd be mad and yell at him and he'd gotten himself all worked up for nothing.

"Peter? Baby Spider?"

He blinks. Oh. He's started crying again. That's embarrassing. He blinks a few more times to clear his vision and sees Yelena staring at him with open concern. He tries to mumble something along the lines of—well, he hadn't actually gotten far enough to decide what it was he was going to say, but instead of words coming out, he just sniffles. She scoots a bit closer, reaching out to check something on the bedside table, and then cards her fingers through his hair. The light tingling sensation feels really good, and it just makes him cry harder.

"Shh, shh, Baby Spider," she's whispering, "what's wrong? Talk to me, tell me what's making you cry."

"'M sorry—"

"No apologies, Baby Spider, remember? I will not abandon you to pain."

And just that, just that memory of all of them being so worried for him, all of them clustered around that hospital bed, is enough to make him feel even worse. Because what right does he have to assume the worst of them? They're the fucking Avengers, who is he to think badly of them?

"Hey, stay with me." The hand in his hair pushes it back from his face. "Stay with me, look at me, that's it—yes, look at me. Peter? Are you here with me?"

"Y-yeah, Aunt Spider, I'm—I'm here."

"That's good. Can you stay with me this time? Can we try?" He nods again. "Good. Now, let's try this again: what's making you cry, Baby Spider?"

He sniffles, trying to focus on her question and not the roiling guilt in his gut or the soft touch of her fingers against his still-tender scalp. "I just want to be able to do things."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? But you didn't do anything wrong!"

"Sympathy, Baby Spider, not remorse." She takes the half-finished crochet animal and boops his nose with its nose. "I've been on bedrest before, it's not fun."

"It's not."

"That's why I'm here to keep you company, hm? So that our Baby Spider doesn't go insane while he can't climb on all the walls and scare us at two in the morning."

"I don't scare you," he replies mulishly, "just Mr. Stark."

"And it's wonderful and I will be uploading that video to YouTube once it gets long enough."

He snorts. "Good luck."

"Thank you." She nudges his cheek this time. "Are you feeling any better? Do you need anything?"

"Will you tell me another story, Aunt Spider?"

"Of course I will."

***

Yelena has to leave before movie night, which means someone else swaps out for guard duty. He hopes it'll be Dr. Banner, maybe he can convince him to talk about work even if they don't actually do anything. Or maybe Rhodey, because then he can just hear all the stories about Mr. Stark when he was younger and getting into trouble.

He doesn't get those. No, instead Captain Rogers comes in with that soft smile and sits down in the chair with a sketchbook and Peter is terrified.

Not because he thinks Captain Rogers would hurt him, no, but because Captain Rogers is Captain Fucking America and he's already fucked up enough in front of him that he probably thinks Peter's awful and too young and too immature and the fact that he's assuming the worst of him right now is only proving him right and he's going to freak the hell out and—

"Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me."

There's a warm hand on his face. There's another warm hand on his chest. There's a soft voice in his ear. He's gasping and sobbing. When did that happen?

"Eyes on me, Peter," Captain Rogers is saying, and he really should be trying to listen, "that's it, just like that, eyes on me."

"'M here, I'm sorry, I'm here."

"Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart." Oh, god, not the pet names. "You're doing so well. Just keep breathing and keep your eyes on me, okay? Just look at me."

He keeps talking, keeps talking in that really low comforting voice that all superheroes need to have for when they talk to civilians, and Peter's not sure why that's twisting in his gut the same way the panic was earlier, but now his stomach is aching and he thinks he must mumble something about it because then one of his big warm hands slides down and he's about to protest but he rubs a soft, slow circle into the tender skin and it shuts him right up. It's just like him: gentle but insistent, and Peter's crying like a baby again because he's being so nice and Peter's being so mean to him.

"You're not being mean to me, sweetheart," he soothes, looking so distraught that Peter thinks he's being bad, "you're just crying. That's okay."

"N-no, I'm—I keep thinking you're—that I'm—"

"That you're what," he prompts gently when Peter shakes his head furiously, refusing to finish his sentence, "that you're what, Peter?"

"It's nothing."

"It's made you panic and hurt," comes the soft correction, "that's not nothing."

"It's stupid."

There's a pause, during which Peter's brain does its best to panic again, but then Captain Rogers is turning his face toward his with a terribly soft look on his face and that hand on his stomach is still soothing away the fear before it has time to form and he's going to cry all over both of them again.

"I know you're scared," he murmurs, "I know you're hurt. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to be mad at you, I'm not going to kick you out of here or anything like that. You're one of us, kid, and we care about you. Not just because you're an incredible hero, but because you're a good kid. You're our good kid, no matter how much Tony and Nat and Yelena try to monopolize you. You're our Peter Parker, and we're here for you. Not just as Spider-Man, but for you."

…well, fuck.

"Is that it?" His face falls when Peter just nods frantically. "Oh, kid…I can't hug you right now, but—no, okay, we're gonna make this work. Come here, lift your head up…"

He slides one arm under Peter's head and shoulders, leaning over the bed and bringing him into a slightly awkward cuddle, but it's still a cuddle and Peter's crying all over again because Captain Rogers is trying to cuddle him because he's upset.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he's whispering, "I'm right here, sweetheart, everything's gonna be okay."

"What did you do to my Baby Spider?"

"Shh, it's just Nat, it's okay." He turns over his shoulder. "I'm giving him a hug because he's scared and upset, if that's alright with you."

"Why is my Baby Spider upset?" She comes around to the other side of the bed, letting out a quiet noise and wiping a tear from his cheek. "What did Steve do?"

"N-nothing, nothing, he didn't do anything wrong, please—"

"Now look what you've done," Captain Rogers says, but he's still speaking softly, like it's just a joke, and he's pulled in for a kiss on the forehead, "you're making him more upset."

"Oh, Baby Spider, it's okay, we're just playing. You're okay, you're okay…" She picks up his hand and kisses his knuckles. "What's got you all upset today?"

"Jus' being stupid."

"No," Captain Rogers corrects, still soft, still gentle, "try again, sweetheart."

The lump in his throat won't go away. "'M scared that you're gonna—that 'm gonna lose this."

"Lose what, Baby Spider? Us taking care of you? Us caring about you?" How does she do that? "Oh, Peter, no. You're stuck with us forever."

"You don't have to threaten him, Nat."

"Is that what you think my threats sound like, Rogers?"

Peter laughs. It's more of a sob than a laugh and he's definitely still crying, but it is a laugh. And he almost wants to laugh again at how quickly the two of them melt. Captain Rogers keeps rubbing his aching stomach and Ms. Romanoff starts playing with his hair again and his eyes get heavy before he can even think about it too much. "We still—'re we still movie night?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, we're still on for movie night. You gotta stay awake long enough to tell Tony what you want for dinner, though."

"FRIDAY knows."

"Oh, she does, does she?"

"Peter has already informed Mr. Stark that the Number 12 meal has been requested."

"How many of those do you two have?"

"…'bout 30 I think?"

"Oh, Baby Spider, don't ever change."

[thehollowwriter]

Long ass ramble about Christianity stuff under the cut idk

I roam the anti Christiaity tags quite a lot, and a common thing I've notcied, especially with atheists, is people acting like Christians are all just stupid people who believe whatever they're told.

Well, I'm sure it's very easy to sit and tout yourself as more superior and intelligent than these foolish people who believe in fictional deities, especially when you haven't been raised Christian yourself.

Just having the knowledge of the world outside the confines of Christianity doesn't magically undo being taught all your life that not only is the "outside" (non-Christians) the enemy, but they will try and trick and deceive you to pull you away from god.

It is drilled in from the start that all humans are inherently evil and without god you have no worth. You are told over and over and over that without god you are a worthless, sinful person who will suffer in hell for all eternity.

Let me say that again: over and over and over, non-Christians are described not as non-believers that are people too, but the ENEMY. They are not to be trusted or befriended because they can lead you off the righteous path to heaven and into eternal damnation because they don't have the holy spirit to protect them from Satan. Non-Christians are dehumanised and treated like a threat.

On top of that, over and over and over, you are told you are worthless and evil. Does that make you feel bad about yourself? Lower your self-esteem? Come now, silly, that's just Satan trying to pull you away from god! God will make you happy and ensure you are saved. Aren't you just so grateful that he loves you despite your evilness?

Now add the fact that Christian parents limit their children's exposure to other beliefs or non-Christians and tell them that what other people say that is against god or the bible are lies from the devil. Your entire community agrees with this. The adults in your life agree with this, and those that don't are made out to seem like poor lost souls going to hell.

Do not think about what the enemies are telling you. Do not listen to them. Those are the words of Satan leaving their mouths, you don't want to listen to Satan, do you?

Now they present "facts" about how the sinful world ruled by Satan hates good Christians like yourself and that Christians are oppressed. You can't doubt them, or you are doubting god, and if you doubt god, you are not a true Christian, and you will go to hell. Those lovely bible bedtime stories read by your parents describing terrible things happening to people who doubt god are sitting in the back of your mind.

Then add the fact that you are told that if someone is Christian, and especially a pastor, you can trust what they say because they speak the word of god. If they are wrong or a particularly bad person, then they're actually not a real Christian.

However, you are still told to spread the good news of god! Go tell people god is good, tell them they have a chance because of Jesus' love and mercy! Jesus isn't like your average man. He's not like those mean sinful people because he is the perfect son of god.

Naturally, this will get mixed or negative or even aggressive reactions. And what does that do? It will simply prove that the "enemy" hates Christians and is too blinded by Satan to hear the word of God.

The outside won't show you the kindness and love and acceptance that your church has always shown. So, you stay because to you, that is your only place of safety and love and salvation.

A lot of this mainly applies it you're raised Christian, and most people who convert to Christianity were raised Christian too and then stopped believing before falling into the manipulation once again.

But what about those who weren't raised Christian?

Oh, right! Many Christian organisations support and donate to hospitals, charities, youth hostels, homeless shelters, etc, where they then go and preach. My grandfather is a pastor, and he preaches at local prisons.

What a more perfect time to talk to the "enemy" about how they can find salvation, purpose, and safety in god than when they are at their worst mentally and physically? When they are desperate for any way to cope or a way out?

I still think about the time I sat through my church's proudly announcing that they "helped" impoverished communities by spending thousands of Rands on... giving them all bibles! Having faith in God will help them more than the church ever could, apparently.

Now they can prevent you from asking questions all the easier! And you certainly can't be educated about sex because that's bad and sinful unless it's with your god given spouse for the purpose of having children.

Lack of education is also a wonderful advantage to the church, especially when they prevent you from pursuing any further education by claiming academia spreads lies.

In fact, almost all of the kids at the church my family goes to are homeschooled by their good Christian parents who will prevent them from being exposed to the "enemy's lies". Surely keeping them from socialising with other people with different beliefs and controlling what they are taught (even if you as a parent are not qualified to teach!) will be a big help of preventing them from being a lost sheep!

You can't possibly tell if they're spreading misinformation about sex and pregnancy or sexuality as a whole. You don't know a single thing about safe sex or contraceptives or stds. All you know is sex between a married man and woman is beautiful and pure, and anything else is evil! You are tainted and no longer pure if you engage in such things.

The bible even says a married man looking another woman with lust has already committed adultery (thought crimes!), and surely sexual thoughts or feelings that you don't really understand are evil too. So, talking about sex and learning about it? Hah, absolutely not!

(Now everyone quickly act confused about teenage pregnancy or families with no access to this education having more children than they can support being extremely common)

This is basically a long-winded way of saying that acting like Christians are just foolish people who haven't been in the real world glosses over how much manipulation, fearmongering and gaslighting is used to control people and ensure they don't break from the religion. And, shocking at it may be, even if you do manage to leave, it does not magically undo all that's been drilled into you.

It's easy to sit and act like you're so very superior and far more intelligent for seeing all these *obvious* things, especially if you haven't experienced being in the actual religion.

[jedidragonwarriorqueen]

Not so much a question as it is a request, but if you don’t mind, could you take us through how you write action scenes? :) love your work!

First of all, I am sooooo sorry, this has been sitting in my inbox for literal AGES :'''') Partly because of spoons, partly because I would routinely forget for long stretches of time, but mostly because I wasn't really sure how to format a helpful response '^^ Hopefully you're still in a place on your creative writing journey where this might be helpful, ehehehe

I ended up just jotting down a list of tips that I've internalized over time to help my action scenes flow, and added some examples from my own writing. These aren't hard and fast rules that I always follow, but I definitely try to stick to them a majority of the time.

(Also, thank you so much, I'm so happy you enjoy my fics!!! <3)

Know the end goal.

This seems obvious, but I mean specific end goal. Now, if you're a pantser who tends to figure this shit out as they write the scene, then you do you, boo <3 But for me, if I don't know exactly where I want my characters to be at the end of the fight, I get stuck.

Instead of just, "Soren and Rayla fight initially before realizing they're ultimately on the same side," I need "Soren steals the safe back and knocks Rayla into the stream." Instead of just, "Roy breaks free from the soldiers and gets Briggs' attention somehow" I need "Roy breaks free and makes the transport explode." Otherwise, I'm just gonna end up with Soren and Rayla looking at each other awkwardly or Roy sitting by himself in the snow, and a blinking cursor.

Have the setting well planned out.

I mean this in two ways: first, have it planned out in your head and then use it when plotting out how the action goes down. Then when actually writing, introduce the setting before the action starts, so that you're not bogged down in those details and can keep the pace up.

For example, when Callum and Rayla have a showdown with Claudia in the second chapter of and finding answers (is forgetting all of the questions we called home), before Claudia shows up the scene opens with Callum and Rayla chatting together by themselves. I sprinkled in setting details during their conversation so that by the time Claudia shows up and shit hits the fan, the readers already know that Callum and Rayla are cornered at the top of a tall hill with a steep cliff at their backs.

Use short sentences, or short clauses

I've seen it recommended that sentences in action scenes should be short and snappy, to keep the action moving and the tension up. (Though it's a good idea to include a few medium and long ones so it doesn't seem too stilted.) When I'm reading, this has the desired effect on me! However, when I'm writing, I must admit to tending toward the purple-prosy side of things and writing longggg sentences '^^ A method I've found that works for me is keeping clauses shorter even if my sentences stay long. Commas and to some extent conjunctions make my eyes pause just as much as a period does. Here's an example of what I mean from and when you can't rise (i'll crawl with you on hands and knees), with shorter clauses in red and long ones in green:

The other soldiers all gag at their next inhale, eyes flying wide, dropping their weapons in panicked instinct. Riza elbows the one on her right in the throat and grabs his gun as he doubles over in his seat, shooting first the locks on Hausner’s door and the door to her right before turning the weapon on its owner and his comrade. At that point Roy has reached past Hausner, opens the door and tackles the man out of the vehicle. He comes into a crouch, securing the colonel in a headlock, and exhales the breath he’d been holding before taking in the clean northern air. Relief floods him as his captain slides out the rear passenger door, new pistol at the ready, but it vanishes just as quickly when he reaches one-handed for his ignition gloves and they’re not there.

Most of the first half of the paragraph is red, where most of the action happens. I do have a longer clause in there for some variety. By the end of the paragraph, there's more green, but at this point there's a pause in the action as the bad guys have been momentarily dealt with, so the longer clauses can reflect the characters "taking a breath" so to speak.

Strong verbs vs. adverbs

I'm not one of those people who thinks you should never use adverbs, but if you're trying to cut down on sentence/clause length, for me adverbs are the easiest to ditch. Then, if you swap out more generic verbs for really strong, descriptive ones, it paints a more raw and vivid picture. In long live all the mountains we moved (i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you), I especially used this trick, as I was trying hard for an emotionally-charged, desperate vibe:

With a word and a gesture, a gale knocks over flattens a line of corrupted creatures from the outcrop to the edge of the plateau. A rune pops slashes into existence and a cyclone passes rips through the ranks of zombies, leaving a no-man’s land behind. Hailstones the size of eyeballs fall rain down on the humans and elves foolish or desperate enough to fight for the disgraced Startouch elf. In the distance, a black tail slashes across the sky, and with a blistering scream Domina Profundis falls plummets, angling toward the coast. The other dragons retreat, wary, and the corrupted star serpent flies twists towards the rocky outcrop . . . the serpent moves corkscrews through the sky, outpacing the surprised dragons behind. It snarls, mouth bristling with needle teeth the size of spears, smoky tendrils trailing in tainting the atmosphere in its wake.

Engage all the senses...

Stay out of the character's heads (during the heavy action).

Time passes quickly in a fight, too quickly for characters to do much thinking or registering everything that's happening. Plus, interjecting a character's train of thought tends to slow down an otherwise fast-paced paragraph, which can be a bit jarring. I like to save that until after the fight, or during a pause in the action. For example, from we took the step, oh we took the leap (and we'll take what comes):

Coming around the bend of the tunnel, the creatures behind them thundered into view . . . She leapt to meet the beasts head on, but to her dismay, her swords—easily capable of slicing through metal, stone, and bone—deflected off their hides. Duse sithspawned creatures. After taking a nasty swipe to her shoulder that sheared straight through her armor, drawing blood, Rayla backed away. “I can’t stop them,” she called back to her companions. “My beskade bounce right off their armour!” She pulled a pistol from a holster at her back and fired off several shots in quick succession, but the advancing beasts didn’t even flinch. “Haar’chak. Blaster’s no good, either.” Rayla’s thoughts raced as she tried to come up with a plan. She couldn’t win here, probably—but she could maybe hold the tuk’ata off long enough for the boys to escape—but she didn’t know if she could occupy them both at once for the boys to sneak past—

Here, while Rayla does call out a few observations that her weapons don't work (which i mostly included since this is an AU rewrite of a canon scene, and it's based on actual dialogue), she doesn't stop to think about other options until she's taken a step back from fighting for a moment. While she's actually fighting the hounds, I focused on her actions, to keep the pace up.

I hope you find some of these tips helpful, and maybe even worth the wait, ehehe. Stay well, friend!!

[ga-yuu]

This somehow has been bugging me, but don't you think it would have been better if the Belle ceremony started before the King retired or died? I mean, if Rhodolite doesn't have a King, which means it is in a very vulnerable state and everyone knows that if the Obisidian knew about this then they would immediately attack Rhodolite. Everyone knows how much of a threat Obsidian is. Keeping that in mind, it would have been much better if Emma was chosen the next Belle before the king died because after the King died, the next King (chosen by Emma) could immediately take the throne. So they won't be needing to lie or hide Emma from the other Kingdoms. I know someone's death is unpredictable, but they could have taken this precaution.

Some spoilers ahead!

Also another thing, (I feel like Ikepri fans are hating me right now because I couldn't stop nitpicking their fav game...but I can't help it! These questions are actually bugging me!)I hate the previous King. The previous King and Belle fell in love. But because Belle was a commoner, the Royal Court didn't accept their marriage. So their social status is the big villain here. On top of that Belle got pregnant and was banished from the Kingdom. The King became the fallen beast (lol) and had to marry a hotter woman a.k.a Chevalier's mom, and rule the Kingdom while being depressed (and horny at the same time). On top of that, he got, Leticia (my personal fav mom) pregnant for no reason? Why? They didn't make it clear at all and Chevalier's mom was okay with it? And it all happened before the King went crazy!? Whatever, that's not my question. My question is if social status was the villain, why didn't the King himself try to change that rule? I mean, he is the King, after all, the man with the highest power in the Kingdom. Can't he give a noble title to Belle? But the King was dumb and as a result of this, the 99th clause happened so that the 'tragedy' doesn't happen again. I mean, it certainly is a tragedy. Not only Belle and the King suffered, but along with them the mothers of other princes' have to suffer as well. I can understand the King is heartbroken, but that doesn't mean that he can go around sleeping with every woman he comes across in search of 'love'. He has a beautiful wife sitting at home, he could have just moved on and started fresh. You're MARRIED FOR GOD SAKE! DON'T RUIN YOUR SPOUSE'S LIFE JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE HEARTBROKEN!!!

I wish in the future, they release past stories about the former King, former Belle, and the stories about Queens cause I'm really interested in what actually happened. Actually, fuck it! I don't care about the King and Belle, at least give me a clear story about Chevalier and Clavis's moms.

The 99th clause was not clear at all. First of all, what the hell is this clause about? Is only Belle not allowed to marry the King because she's a commoner or no commoners are allowed to marry the King at all? Which is it? In Chevalier's route, if I remember correctly, he tells Sariel that he is taking Emma as his girlfriend and when Sariel tells him about the clause, Chevalier is like---"Well, the Belle ceremony is over and now Emma is not Belle anymore. So it's fair."

But I'm here like----"She's still a commoner!!!" What happened to the whole social status problem?